Falling Out of Love
by 2nerdyfangirls
Summary: Everyone falls in love at some point in their lives, but what does it feel like to fall out of love? Follow the journey of Hermione Granger as she learns the answers to these questions. This is a story about crossing the thin line between love and hate, heart and mind, enemies and soul mates, life and death and whatever is in between.
1. Prologue

"Hermione,"Harry softly called. Harry stood there, on Hermione's porch, looking haggard. In fact, the first thought that bloomed in Hermione's brilliant mind was that the last time she had seen her best friend looking so… _solemn_ had been the battle of Hogwarts.  
"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione looked at Harry, concerned. Harry's green eyes, now slightly bloodshot, darted to Rose who was reading in a chair behind Hermione. Hermione forced a calm look on her face. "Rose, dear," she turned to face her daughter. "Go on upstairs and check on your brother."

Rose opened her mouth as though she wanted to protest but after she saw the look on her mother's face she obeyed. Hermione opened her front door wider for Harry, "Come in so we can talk."

Harry followed the brunette into her living room where they sat. Hermione put a hand comfortingly on Harry's shoulder when he stayed silent for a moment. "Harry, what is it? Is it Ginny? Is she alright?"

To Hermione's dismay, Harry only seemed to grow more upset. "Yes, Ginny… Ginny's fine." Harry stood up, ran a hand through his hair, and began to pace.

Hermione stood up, growing anxious. "Well, what's wrong then?" Hermione was growing concerned as she observed the small signs of Harry's internal struggle.. Harry finally stopped and looked Hermione in the eyes. "It's Ron," He stated dully. Hermione's eyes shot to his, observing another wave of sadness hit him at her half hopeful, half terrified glance. "Harry," she started slowly, "What exactly is wrong with Ron?"

Harry sighed, "Hermione, Ron… He's gone."  
Hermione inhaled sharply and felt a sharp pain in her chest. "Ron left a week ago for a conference with the auror department in America, he can't be. You must have mistaken him for someone else."

Harry didn't know what to do or say. He wanted more than anything to embrace the woman in front of him and tell her that everything would be alright. But he couldn't do that. Hermione was a sister to him, he couldn't lie to her. Harry had been putting off telling Hermione for several days, mostly because he had been in denial himself.

It wasn't until what seemed like hours later that Hermione's refusal to believe her husband was gone finally dissipated, and even then she was acting as though she didn't quite believe it was true.


	2. Chapter 1

Two months later, Hermione walked with her children down the desolate path to Ron's memorial. Rose held her hand, something that had been an old habit she had left behind in childhood. "Will Uncle Harry be there?" Hugo whispered to his mother.

"Of course," Hermione answered reassuringly. The numbness of Ron's loss had subsided and only a few weeks previously she had the realization that she was never going to see her husband again. It all finally hit her, like a wave crashing onto a shore. Harry, her best friend, had stayed with her all night while she cried. After the tears had run out, together they had looked over mementos of their times together with Ron. Even though it was painful think about the bittersweet memories, Hermione had admitted it felt good to just let it out. However, at Ron's memorial, she knew she had to compose a facade of a pulled together widow. Hermione had to at least pretend to be strong, for Rose and Hugo. The memorial was outside, as Hermione knew that was where Ron would have wanted it.

"Hello Hermione," came a voice from behind her. A brown haired man with a sad expression began to approach Hermione.

"Neville," Hermione hugged Neville tightly.

"I'm so sorry," Neville told his old friend.

Hermione only sighed and tried keep herself composed. "You were a great friend to Ron, Neville. He would have wanted me to tell you that." Hermione bit her lip to keep a sob from escaping.

"Thank you, Hermione. You were his best friend and an amazing wife. That's what he would have wanted to remind you, if he was here, I know it."

Hermione gave Neville a sad smile before turning to the woman next to him. The woman had red hair and looked familiar to Hermione. "Hannah," Hermione shook Hannah's hand. "Thank you for coming."

Hannah nodded, "I know I wasn't close to Ron, but I know He would have wanted us all to be here for you." Hannah gestured at the crowd of people around her.

The next hour or so passed in a similar fashion. Condolences, empty apologies, some from people who had never really known him. Apologies wouldn't bring him back. Hermione talked to friends, family, acquaintances, and many Hogwarts alumni. Some made her want to laugh, though she constantly felt the need to cry. Finally, after a long conversation with Charlie Weasley, Hermione ducked into an empty tent to let out a few tears, the first she had shed that mournful day. Her breath came out in gasps and she kept her eyes squeezed shut, trying not to let any tears escape.  
Hermione heard footsteps behind her and took a deep breath before turning around, ready to greet the person. Then she saw who it was and her eyes grew wide. Standing in front of her was a fairly tall man. He was about her age, give or take a few months, with platinum blonde hair and grey eyes. He wore a sad expression, which caused him to appear surprisinly vulnerable. He gave the appearance with a permanent countenance of sorrow.

"Draco," Hermione cleared her throat. She had long ago gotten over old school grudges against the man standing before her, but he was still the last person she wanted to see her crying.  
Malfoy sighed, "Granger, you look like you need a drink."

Draco flicked his wand and two chairs appeared and he handed her a cup of something.

"Th-thank you." Hermione accepted the cup and sat down in the chair. She stared at the cup in her hands.

"It's tea, Granger," Draco reassured her.

Hermione flinched momentarily and by habit corrected, "Weasley," before realizing her mistake, which seemed to tear at the only barrier left keeping her from falling apart.

"I think maybe I ought to just call you Hermione," Draco suggested quietly.

Hermione nodded, "So, Draco, why are you-"

"Here," Draco finished smoothly. Hermione swallowed. Draco sighed, "I came here to talk, shockingly. About Wea- Ron."  
Hermione blinked, she didn't know what to think. "Alright," She nodded slowly.

Draco took a deep breath, "I envied him, Ronald. I know you always thought I hated him and the rest of the Weasleys on principle. But I didn't. I always had and always will have a certain respect for them," Draco spoke calmly. "Ron was everything I wasn't, and what I feared I could never be. He was brave, kind, loyal, and just. Despite the fact that he didn't have as much _money_ as we did." Hermione couldn't help noticing the bitter way he spat those last words. "But more than his noble character, he had something that fate had denied me. And I could never understand why. He had a family that was understanding and compassionate. His father was not eternally disappointed." Draco heaved a wary sigh, his eyes shifting from Hermione's eyes to his cup, obviously struggling to decide if he should share his last thought. "He didn't have a father who thought it was perfectly fine to hurt his 5 year old son or force prejudices on an eleven year old boy. He didn't have a father who would beat him into serving a psychopath who would have just as easily forced him to torture and kill, or be killed."

Hermione felt a sharp burning sensation in her chest. A lump formed in her throat as she couldn't help picturing an innocent child… Hermione felt as though she was crying, or should have been, but she had cried all the tears she had. She was left with a hollow, aching feeling where her heart used to be. "I'm so sorry," The words sounded more empty than ever on that day, but Draco understood. Draco understood the feeling of having a weeping heart and dry eyes.

This was why Draco just nodded. "I appreciate the sentiment. However, I didn't come here for a pity party, Grange- Hermione. I just… wanted you to know that even those of us that bullied him will never forget. We will always remember him."

Hermione blinked. "I never thought of you as the sentimental type," She commented flatly. Hermione didn't know what to think or feel. Her husband, her best friend, had just died. Now the boy who had bullied them for years was… _apologizing_ to her? Was this an apology?

"I'm not," Draco answered, but didn't seem offended.

"Are you… apologizing?" Hermione asked tentatively.

Draco just shrugged, "Interpret it however you wish, Hermione." Then he stood up and walked out of the tent, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts.


End file.
